Same Time Next Year
by JessieBess
Summary: A series based on Tom and Mary meeting every year on a particular day. They'll discuss what's happening in their lives as well as the other inhabitants of Downton Abbey.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: The timelines on the show have always been a bit fuzzy. For the purposes of this story, I'm going with Tom and Sybil marrying in early May and Sybbie being born in late June or early July.**

May 1921

Later Mary would think it was fate that led her to the graveyard that particular morning for how else to explain to explain it? Although she took daily walks in the morning, setting out for no specific place nor on any specific route instead letting her mood and the weather determine such things, she couldn't remember when she had last set foot in the village graveyard until that particular morning.

It was one of those mornings when the weather practically begged one to be outdoors. The frightful storms of the previous evening full of driving rain and rattling thunder had given way to a sun shining brightly in the clear blue sky and the air smelling crisp with just a hint of lilac as if the storms had cleaned the outdoors. Newly sprouted leaves on trees and bushes looked fuller and greener as did the grass in the fields and flowering bushes were awash in pinks and reds and purples. Exiting the house, Mary hesitated for a moment looking first to her right where the wide gravel drive would narrow to paths leading to the side of the house and further on to the gardens before deciding to travel instead down the path towards the village.

It wasn't a long walk into the village but once there Mary wanted to sit and rest a bit before starting back to the house and so she found herself walking to the graveyard to sit on a bench among the tombstones. It might seem like an unlikely place to sit and rest but Mary found an odd sort of comfort there. Even as a child she had never been spooked by the graveyard, instead she'd look at the names on the tombstones and conjure up stories of the lives those buried there had led. But now there was one grave there where she didn't have to use such imagination.

Mary opened the small wooden gate in the stonewall that led into the village church yard and took the narrow stone path around to the graveyard. She was a few yards away when she realized a man was standing in front of Sybil's stone tomb. Thinking this was just someone wandering around looking at the tombs and headstones, her curiosity was roused as he knelt and placed a small bouquet of flowers on the ground and then reached out with his right hand to touch the tomb. Holding his hand flat against the stone, he looked as if he was saying a prayer although Mary was too far away to actually hear his words.

She stood silently but the man made no move to rise and move on causing her to take a few steps so as to get a better look at him. Narrowing her eyes as if to better study him, she noted the cheap suit that hung on him as if he had borrowed it from someone a bit bulkier and the worn leather shoes. Her eyes widened and she took a deep breath as she suddenly realized who it was. He must have heard her gasp break the silence for he slowly stood and turned around to face her. It was only then that she realized supported by his left arm and hand, baby Sybil lay snuggled against his chest.

They stood ten feet apart, staring at each other, an awkward silence filling the air, before Mary became _Lady Mary_ , she of proper breeding and manners.

"Tom" she said as she walked closer towards him. As she closed the gap between them, her voice softened and she smiled "and Sybbie."

"Mary" he nodded.

He looked stiff and his voice held no warmth but Mary shouldn't have been surprised for his departure from Downton had been swift and under less than favorable conditions. Her father had never hidden his dislike of his son-in-law and the family had been too consumed by their grief to realize what was happening until it was too late and Tom was gone. Gone to Liverpool and his brother it was supposed for he left no forwarding address.

"It's nice to see you" she said.

"Is it?" He didn't seem convinced of her sincerity.

"Despite what you might think, Matthew and I never wanted you to leave."

"Well you …" he paused as he shifted his legs and looked down at his daughter. "It doesn't really matter now."

"Ah but it does" she replied as her gloved hand touched the top of Sybil's tomb.

"She loved you very much and as her husband you are family" her voice began to quiver. "I know things were said that can never be taken back but" she paused as her dark eyes, focused on her sister's tomb, filled with unwanted tears. Oh how much she missed her beloved younger sister. During the past ten months Mary had often tricked herself into thinking that Sybil was in Ireland and not laying cold in a stone tomb in the village graveyard but then reality would set in and she'd realize she would never again see that beautiful face or hear that husky voice.

Mary took a deep sigh, wiped away a tear and shook her head as if to dissolve any remaining tears. She then towards Tom but her eyes focused on Sybbie.

"She's gotten so big" Mary smiled, a genuine smile not one of those forced polite _Lady Mary_ smiles.

As a proud father, Tom glanced down at his ten-month old daughter. "Aye she has grown like a weed."

Tom might have been surprised at how many times Mary had thought of her niece and wondered how she was faring, fearing what conditions she might be living in, but the baby in Tom's arms was obviously well fed and cared for. Mary noted the light blue cotton dress decorated with tiny dark blue and white embroidered flowers that fell below Sybbie's knees, the bright white stockings that covered her chubby little legs and the soft black fabric slippers. The dress was not of the stuffy and formal silk, lace, ruffles and bows clothes of Mary and Sybil's childhood. Her unbuttoned dark blue jumper, probably hand-knitted by Tom's mother or one of his sisters, seemed a little bit big for her as did the dress but both were of a better quality of material than Tom's suit.

"She's beautiful Tom."

"Like her mother" Tom proudly responded. As if realizing she was being talked about Sybbie raised her head from her father's chest and gave him a smile showing her three teeth as she opened and closed her fingers forming a loose fist .

Mary nodded her head at Tom's remark. The dark blue jumper complimented Sybbie's bright blue eyes and with her dark curly hair, a bit sparser than as a newborn, she did look so much like her mother.

"May I hold her?"

Her request surprised Tom but he nodded as he gently handed Sybbie to her aunt. Sybbie's eyes widened as she looked at the stranger holding her, her hand touching Mary's face. As Mary smiled in reaction to Sybbie's soft touch, Sybbie also smiled.

"Let's sit on the bench." Without waiting for Tom's response Mary walked towards the closest wooden bench, one of the three or four scattered about the graveyard.

Sitting down, Mary placed Sybbie on her lap. "She's surprisingly heavy."

Tom watched as Mary played with Sybbie, clapping her hands and causing shrieks of laughter from the infant. Since much of her day was spent in the garage where Tom had created a play area for her, Sybbie was used to strangers. Mary was surprisingly showing what Sybil always called her softer side, a side that she too rarely showed.

"You seem quite comfortable with her" he finally said, the sound of his voice causing Sybbie to look at Tom. She began squirming and holding out her hands for Tom to pick her up.

"It's good practice for me." Mary smiled at Tom. "I'll be having my own in early fall."

"Congratulations. I'm sure Matthew is delighted." Tom broke out into a broad smile, a smile that lit up his face. Mary had often wondered why this man had been the one to capture her sister's heart but looking at him now she thought she saw him as Sybil must have done.

"Get ready for sleepless nights and" Tom abruptly halted as he realized Mary wouldn't be doing nighttime feedings. Her child would be tucked away in the Downton nursery tended to around the clock by nannies.

"Has it been hard?" As soon as the words were out of her mouth Mary realized how foolish it was to say such a thing.

"Without this one" Tom rubbed his hand on the top of Sybbie's head "I'm not sure I could have gotten through these last months. But taking care of her and working in the garage have kept me occupied although there's still plenty of time to" he looked back towards Sybil's tomb.

Mary's eyes followed Tom's gaze.

"I don't come here enough" she said. "Somehow I sit instead in her old bedroom and feel her presence there or in the rose garden or even sometimes in our old playroom."

Mary gave a slight laugh. "I finger the books or board games she loved as a child. Oh how she loved those adventure books. No princess stories for her! It makes me laugh thinking of how serious she was at winning a game. It was the one time she'd play by the rules or at least made sure Edith and I did."

Tom laughed at Mary's story. "I can see her doing that."

They both grew quiet lost for a moment in their own thoughts.

"Just to let you know if you've wondered why you haven't seen me here before."

"Actually this is the first time I've been here" Tom responded "I mean since I left."

He had come almost daily while he was still living at Downton so Mary was surprised to hear this. "And so why now?" she asked. It wasn't one of those days when family most likely visited. Sybil's birthday was months away and the date she died was almost two months away.

"It's our wedding anniversary."

He had waited so long for that moment. The vision of the small church decorated with green and white ribbons and bouquets of flowers filled his mind. He had never seen the church so beautiful with the bows of green and white ribbons tied at the end of the pews and along the altar railing. Sybil and his sisters had visited several parks to surreptitiously pick flowers from the trees and bushes to add to the meager amount they had from his relatives' yards with the result of colorful bouquets sitting in baskets along the aisle and one large beautiful vase sitting at the base of the altar. Sybil herself had carried a bouquet of white and purple flowers tied with a white ribbon.

Through the years he had seen Sybil dressed in the finest of gowns of rich silks and satins but never had she looked more beautiful that in the simple white cotton dress that his mother had enhanced with lace on the bodice and sleeves. Her dark glossy hair had been pulled back into a loose bun and pinned in place with pearl hair pins. The purple flowers in her bouquet matched her dangling earrings, the only jewelry she wore that day until he slipped the plain gold band on her finger.

It had been that rare Dublin day that had dawned bright and sunny without a cloud in the sky and had remained so throughout the day. As he had walked into the church, he had looked up and thought the clear blue sky was an omen of good luck. It would be a marriage of much happiness.

Mary glanced at Tom. "I'm sorry I didn't think. I should have realized the date."

Her thoughts wandered to that day in Dublin. The church had looked pitifully bare with just that one glass vase in front of the altar filled with a haphazard mixture of flowers and those wicker baskets with a few flowers lying in the aisle. There had been some sense of decoration with the green and white bows but only the first three or four rows had been so decorated.

Her heart had ached when Sybil had shown her and Edith the wedding dress. Her sister deserved so much better than that simple frock. Although Granny had sent one of the Crawley tiaras Sybil had refused to wear it.

But Mary had to admit that Sybil had looked radiant that day and that no jewels could have matched her sister's smile.

Tom closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "That was the happiest day of my life for all happiness since then sprang from that day."

"And it gave you this little one, this jewel" Mary added.

That little jewel as her aunt called her began to squirm uncontrollably. She didn't like being held for so long and was making that quite clear.

"I guess it's time I left" Tom said as he stood.

"Won't you come to the house for lunch" Mary asked.

"Thank you for the offer but no."

"I'm sure everyone would love to see Sybbie" she paused before adding "and you of course."

Tom looked directly at Mary as he shook his head. "I doubt that I am welcomed there but it's nice of you to pretend it's so."

"Tom!" Mary protested. "You are Sybil's husband. You're family. Of course you would be welcomed."

But Tom was adamant. "I'll not go into that house again."

"Oh Tom I'm so sorry you feel like that but it's-"

"Some things are best left as they are Mary."

"At least let me hold Sybbie one more time."

She took the baby into her arms and held her tight against her chest. Tom was surprised to see the cracks in Mary's formal persona. For just a moment he considered changing his mind and going with Mary but then he remembered the circumstances of why and how he had left.

Tom reached out his arms and took back his daughter. Mary smiled wanly at him. "It's been so good to see you Tom. I do truly mean that."

Tears welled in her eyes. "Will you come back again?"

Tom glanced over to his wife's grave. "If not before I'll be here next year same time."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: The title of this story is quite appropriate since it was exactly one year ago that I posted the first chapter. However, I'll admit that it was never my intention to do one chapter each year!**

May 1922

Standing at one of her bedroom windows, Mary looked out across the front lawn and down the gravel drive towards the village. Although the village was only a short walk away, the trees and towering bushes prevented any sight of it from the house although if one peered hard enough the top of the church spire was just barely visible above the tree line. Mary stared at the spire top and wondered again, for what seemed like the fiftieth time, if he would be there or if he did come what time he'd be there. She couldn't take the chance of missing him so she had gotten up early much to the astonishment of Anna who wasn't sure if the fact that Lady Mary was up and about so early or the fact that she was actually dressed to leave the house that was the more surprising.

Of course he would be there Mary silently told herself once again.

Carrying the two colorful bouquets that Anna had brought to her bedroom and a large hat box, Mary quietly stepped across the grand salon towards the entrance hall and the front door. She didn't want to see Carson or her father, didn't want to explain where she was going, didn't want to take the chance that her father would insist on accompanying her.

Rounding the corner of the old stone church, Mary hesitates just inside the entrance to the graveyard. She's only been here a couple of times since Matthew's death and her sight automatically goes to his stone marker, which stands out among the smaller headstones. She closes her eyes and takes several deep breaths to stave off a wave of that gnawing grief that is still just below the surface. Opening her eyes she looks around the graveyard, looking anywhere but at Matthew's grave before finally settling on Sybil's stone tomb. To her great relief a man is standing there, his hand resting atop the cold stone and although his back is towards her she knows it must be Tom. She's sure he's wearing the same cheap suit as last year and she's surprised that it still hangs on him as if it belongs to someone heavier.

As she watches him move his hand and rub it along the words carved in the stone, it hits her that he is alone and she immediately feels a pang of disappointment. As much as she wants to see him, to talk to him, for he is the only other person who can truly relate to what's happened to her, she realizes that she needs to see Sybil's child.

Deciding she'd let Tom spend a few more minutes alone with Sybil, Mary walks to Matthew's grave. Bending down she lays one of the bouquets at the foot of the stone monument that is Matthew's headstone. _I'll always miss you and love you Matthew_ she silently says before straightening up and kissing her fingers and then reaching out her hand and touching the top of the headstone.

A child's laughter breaks the calm silence and Mary looks up to see a toddler dressed in a pretty blue and white checked dress, her arms flung high and wide, running towards Tom. Tom swoops her up into his arms and kisses her forehead causing Mary to smile at the delightful scene of father and child.

As she watches them, Mary is surprised to see a woman walk up and stand in front of Tom. Her smile vanishing, Mary watches as the young woman, much too young for Tom she thinks, holds out her arms toward Sybbie. Even though she is standing only ten, maybe fifteen feet, from them Mary can't comprehend what the woman is saying to Tom.

Tom must have sensed her presence for he looks her way. Mary wants to take off but her feet suddenly feel like lead and they refuse to move.

Tom, still holding Sybbie in his arms, walk towards Mary.

"I was wondering if you'd remember." He broadly smiles, Mary realizes it is a genuine smile that lights up not only his face but also his eyes, but he makes no move to shake her hand or kiss her cheek.

"It is good to see you Tom." She returns his smile and then her hand reaching up to touch Sybbie's cheek she says "and to see you too Sybbie."

Mary continues to smile although her heart breaks a bit noticing how much Sybbie looks like her mother. Her hair isn't quite as dark as Sybil's but the blue eyes are bright like Sybil's and the smile … Sybbie looks so much like the images Mary has seen of Sybil at that age. It's also obvious to Mary that what money Tom has he must spend on Sybbie for her dress looks new and nicely pressed and matches her blue knit sweater perfectly.

"Lady Mary" the young woman, probably still in her late teens but not more than twenty Mary determines upon closely inspecting her, has joined them and Mary is surprised she knows her name. "You probably don't remember me but I met you at Tom and Sybil's wedding. I'm Tom's youngest sister Maeve."

"Of course" Mary replied although she wasn't sure she remembered the girl. She certainly didn't remember any of Tom's sisters looking quite so modern as this girl with her light brown hair cut in a short bob and her long-sleeved dark red dropped-waist dress that while certainly not of the quality of Mary's clothes was rather fashionable.

"Maeve was still in school then" seeing Mary's uncertainly Tom injected. "She's finished school now and has been helping us with the business and with Sybbie."

Maeve looked back at Sybil's grave and then at Mary. "I adored Sybil and she was so kind to me … she encouraged me in my school work and we talked about books and …" she stopped as tears filled her eyes. "It's just so hard to believe what happened."

Maeve looked at Tom and said "what if I take Sybbie for a walk around the village so you two can talk."

"Maeve's been such a big help to me" Tom said as he watched his sister and daughter slowly walk towards the gate. "Sybbie's too rambunctious for such a long motor car ride so it's was good to have Meave keep her seated and entertained."

"So you have a motor car now?" Mary asked.

"It's actually a Morris van that we use for the business" he replied.

"A van" Mary murmured. "That's better." She looked at him "I've packed up some things for Sybbie … and some things that belonged to Sybil and are rightly yours and some things … things … things that" she looked away. Tom took her arm and led her to one of the wooden benches.

Sitting down she gave him a weak smile. "There's some things that were Matthew's that I thought might fit you like sweaters and jackets."

"And you fit all that in that hatbox?" He raised his brow as he pointed to the box on her lap.

"Of course not Tom. This box has some of the more valuable things like Sybil's jewelry and some breakables like a china elephant that Sybil was also so fond of. The larger boxes are …"

"Mary" his voiced sounded a little harsher than he wanted. "I'm not coming up to the house to get them if this is your plan to get me there." The venom in his voice startled her.

"You think I'm that devious?" She stared him in the eye but he didn't answer her. "I had them delivered to the railway station."

Then with her voice almost a whisper she asked "will you never-" But seeing his eyes drift towards Sybil's tomb she didn't finish speaking. Following him, her sight also rested on her beloved sister's grave and she thought that in Tom's shoes she might well feel the same bitterness towards her family.

She looked away and took a deep breath. "Thank you for the card about Matthew. Your letter meant so much not only for the kind words you wrote of him but how well you wrote of grief. No one else has understood."

"How did you get through it Tom?" He doesn't need to look at Mary's face to realize the pain that is still there for he knows such pain all too well. It is something that as the months pass may not be quite so plainly written on one's face but it is still there simmering just below the surface ready to erupt at any moment. It doesn't have to be an obvious moment, seeing her name written on the title page of a book or seeing a woman in a nurse's uniform or walking past someone with her favorite scent, sometimes it's the color of the sky that reminds him of her eyes or a rainy day that's the type she said was always good for snuggling in a comfy chair and reading a book.

He thought of how this past year had been so much harder than the first year. The winter had been long and cold with endless days of gray skies sometimes erupting into snow or sleet and he'd often felt as bleak as the dark winter days. The cold permeated the garage and into the small flat above causing him and Kiernan to spend too much of their hard earned money on coal but he wouldn't take chances with little Sybbie catching pneumonia or worse from an unheated flat. He'd kept her bundled in hand-knit sweaters, heavy woolen socks, and, in something he thought Sybil would have loved, boy's trousers which seemed so much warmer than dresses. Once Sybbie started walking she was no longer content spending her days in the tiny play space he had created for in the garage but the money to hire someone to watch her just wasn't there. And so he taken Sybbie to his mother in Ireland and left her there for almost three months. It had broken his heart to do so but he saw no other way to properly care for her. Although he had visited her every three weeks, he felt ashamed that he couldn't better provide for her and worst of all was that he felt he had betrayed Sybil. But he couldn't tell these things to Mary, not because he feared she wouldn't understand but because he was too embarrassed.

He turned his face to look at her. "I don't even know if you had a boy or girl."

"What?" His sudden change of topic caught her off guard.

"Last year … here … you told me you were expecting."

Mary nodded. "A boy. His name is George and he looks just like Matthew with his blue eyes and blond hair."

"So a future Earl."

"Hopefully there will still be an estate to inherit along with the title. Since the war so many of our class has had to sell up."

"What do you mean Mary … has your father done something foolish again?"

She shook her head. "I've inherited Matthew's half of the estate but Papa doesn't want to do all the things Matthew wanted and he doesn't think I'm capable of-."

"Nonsense" Tom quickly interrupted her. ""You can't let your father run the estate alone … remember he almost bankrupted it. You need to get a good estate manager."

"I am the new estate manager."

He looked at her in surprise. "You …"

"You say that as if I can't do it. I thought you believed in women's rights and all that stuff."

"I'm just surprised you're taking it on but I'm glad to hear it. You need to implement Matthew's ideas." He once again looked at her and grinned. "Sybil would be quite proud of you."

Mary returned his grin. "I'm not the only working Crawley sister. Edith is a writer now or at least she purports to be but I think she's really only after her editor. Seriously she needs to dart up to London every other week to discuss her writings?"

Tom lowered his head and ran his hand across his forehead but there was mirth in voice as he said "Now that's more like the Mary I know."

Raising his head he looked at her "won't you ever give Edith a break?"

"Really Tom" Mary began in that most _Lady Mary_ voice of hers. "You can't imagine what it's like with you and Sybil and Matthew gone and it's just me with her."

"Well it was just the two of us but now there's our cousin Rose, well actually Granny's grandniece that's come to stay with us. She's quite a handful and I'm not sure how we'll manage until her coming out next year."

Mary grabbed Tom's arm. "Oh you'll love this. Rose's parents moved to India and you'll never believe who went with them."

Tom had to chuckle at Mary's merriment and he waited for her reveal.

"O'brien!" Mary finally blurted.

"O'brien?"

Nodding her head Mary explained that O'brien had taken the job as lady's maid to Rose mother. "Didn't think we'd ever get rid of her."

"Whatever is Thomas doing without his partner in crime?"

Mary chuckled. "I think they had a falling out way before O'brien left. Anyway, there's a new handsome footman he has his eye on."

Amused Tom shook his head. "So things can change at Downton?"

* * *

At the railway station, Mary held Sybbie while Tom and Maeve loaded the boxes into the Morris Motors van that had _Branson's Garage_ written on the side.

"The business must be doing well to have this truck" Mary commented.

"It's taken some time getting a new business off the ground but things are coming around now. Maeve's been a big help … she's great with the customers and is learning how to do the books."

"I wish …" Mary kissed Sybbie's cheek. "I wish you were still here. I could use your help with the estate."

"You'll do fine Mary. Educate yourself. Read up on all the latest farming techniques and new equipment. Join some associations."

Mary nodded. "See you're already giving me good advice."

Tom held out his arms for Sybbie but Mary wasn't quite ready to let her go. Her hand brushed back Sybbie's hair and then she hugged her tightly. Holding Sybbie snug against her chest, tears formed in Mary's eyes. "I'm afraid Tom … afraid of losing thoughts of him. Afraid of not remembering what Matthew's voice sounded like. Afraid of not remembering the way he walked, that smile he had."

"You'll always have your memories Mary. And at the oddest of times something will come back to you."

"We've lost great loves Tom."

"Aye we have Mary but at least we've been lucky enough to have had a great love."

* * *

"That …" Maeve gestured toward the behemoth that was Downton Abbey "that is where Sybil grew up? I knew she was rich but it's a fecking castle."

Standing beside the small Morris Motors van with _Branson's_ painted on the side, Tom couldn't help but chuckle at Maeve's disbelief. He had taken a slight detour to satisfy Maeve's curiosity and had driven the van down a side road from which one had a view across a rolling field to the Abbey whose warm honey colored stone glowed in the sunlight. For a moment he remembered how he too had been awed the first time he had seen the imposing sight that was Downton Abbey.

* * *

Mary was settled in the lounge chair and had just turned the page of her book when the door to her bedroom opened.

"Granny! Heavens! What brings you here?"

"Can't I visit my granddaughter without a reason?"

"Of course you can but we both know you don't."

Violet barreled her way into the room, her cane tapping at each footstep, and sat on the edge of the bed facing Mary.

"I hear you were out all morning."

"And that news is of such great importance that you had to come see me?"

"When you've spent months hidden away in this room it is news."

Mary set her book on the stand next to her chair fearing that if granny started yammering once again about how important it was for her to get out and about she might throw the book at her. She was tired of everyone telling her what to do, telling her she needed to get on with her life. At least with Tom it had been different.

"I was in the village today."

Something in Violet's voice caused Mary to sit up.

"I saw a young woman walking with a little girl that looked quite like Sybil at that young age. She even looked about the age that Sybil's daughter would be now. I tried following her but the young woman walked too fast for me. Would you know anything about this? Might this have something to do with your mysterious disappearance this morning?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Surprise! After taking a whole year to write a second chapter, it only took me a month for this one.**

 **May 1923**

"Moo … moo" little Sybil Branson crooned into the window of the rail car as the train passed a field with several cows. She tapped her little hand against the window as she turned her face towards her father. "Daddy baby cow!" she squealed with delight.

"Aye luv" Tom smiled as he was reminded how the simplest things delighted his daughter. It was a whole different world he thought seeing it through the eyes of a toddler. Often it made him pause in his daily life and take the time to admire a butterfly hovering over a flowering plant or see the delight in creating splashes in a rain puddle or laugh at the creaks the floorboard could make as one jumped on it just so. His daughter surprised and enchanted him daily and made the mundane of his life a bit brighter.

Something that delighted him today was seeing that the weather had certainly improved the closer the train got to Downton. He had awoken that morning to the sound of raindrops beating against his bedroom window. Listening to the steady plop plop of the rain he had closed his eyes wondering if he should make the journey to Downton. Yet as the moments passed by he knew he had to go for it was a date to celebrate, it was their anniversary and where else should he be? The sorrow and grief that had once been so all-encompassing had subsided into smaller and smaller waves of sadness. His heart still ached but instead of a torrent of tears he'd will himself to think of those happy times they had had and none had been happier than that day they had become husband and wife.

Opening his eyes his faced turned towards the battered second-hand bedside table and the framed photograph of Sybil. Even in the faint light that filtered through the thin curtains Sybil looked radiant in her wedding gown. Sitting up, he reached for the frame, smiling he ran his fingers lightly over the side of the photograph until stopping them briefly on Sybil's smile, a smile that lit up the world and never more so than that day he thought. Despite it being a black and white photograph when he looked at it he saw her sparkling blue eyes, her dark glossy hair, and her dark violet dangling earrings which matched the purple flowers of her bouquet. Those earrings and her plain gold wedding ring were safely wrapped in a box waiting for Sybbie's eighteenth birthday. They were the only jewels of Sybil's he had taken when he left Downton. The only jewels of Sybil's he had until last year when Mary had given him all of Sybil's things that he had left behind when he and Sybbie had fled Downton for Liverpool.

It had rained at Downton as evidenced by the small puddles here and there that Tom, carrying Sybbie, dodged as he hurried through the small village towards the graveyard. Only a few puffy white clouds dotted the otherwise clear blue sky and the morning sun gave promise of a warm spring day. He took a few minutes inside the church to light a candle and say a prayer, something that was a manner of his heritage and even though this church wasn't a Catholic one he thought that in such matters as this the actual label of the religion didn't matter. It also gave him time to sit and compose himself, preparing himself for the sight of her grave.

He had only taken a few steps on the stone walk when he paused. He hated the stone slab that was her tomb, it seemed too cold, too ostentatious. It wasn't what he would have chosen but then he hadn't been consulted, hadn't made any of the decisions regarding her funeral. Just like he hadn't been consulted on her health until it was too late and she was already consigned to the path her father and that fancy quack had chosen.

* * *

Mary, just entering the village square, was surprised at the sense of relief that swept over her as she spotted Tom opening the wooden gate to the churchyard. Until that moment she saw him she didn't acknowledge how much comfort he brought to her, how much wanted to talk with him. She didn't follow him into the church yard, he'd come all this way to visit Sybil's grave and she'd given him some time alone with her.

Standing on the narrow stone path Mary felt her eyes cloud over with unshed tears as she watched the loving scene between Tom and his daughter. Kneeling so that he was at Sybbie's level, the two of them were running their fingers over the carved lettering of Sybil's tomb and although from this distance she couldn't hear what they were saying it was obvious the two were having a conversation with Sybbie looking back and forth from the tomb to her father. What could they be talking about wondered Mary. What could a not quite three year old possibly understand about this situation?

Mary glanced beyond Tom to Matthew's grave with its gleaming granite headstone which stood out among the surrounding smaller weathered headstones. She still rarely came here for unlike Tom she found little comfort at his gravesite and she had never brought George here.

She glanced back again to see Sybbie reach out one of her tiny hands as if wiping away a tear from her father's cheek and then lean over and wrap both of her little arms around him, her head nestled in his chest. It took all of Mary's strength not to break out in tears witnessing this intimate scene. She stood rooted to this spot not uttering a sound as Tom stood up with Sybbie still clinging to him and watched as Tom kissed the top of his daughter's glossy dark hair. For a moment she was aware of how silent it was here, no sounds filtered in from the village just beyond the stone fence, no birds twittered from the huge oak tree which blanketed half of this section of the graveyard in cool shade.

She thought she should turn away, silently walk back down the stone path but Tom must have felt her presence for he turned towards her and she saw the smile that gradually covered his face as he recognized her.

"Hello Tom" she said as she approached him. "Hello Sybbie" she said standing in front of them but in response the little girl burrowed her face into her father's chest.

"Sybbie" Tom said quietly "this is your Aunt Mary. The nice lady that gave you the rocking horsey."

"Horsey" Sybbie lifted her head as her face lit up in a smile and she kicked her legs.

"If Sybbie enjoys it as much as her mother did-" Mary tilted her head. "I don't remember much of Sybil from that age but I can see her sitting on that horse rocking it so hard I'm surprised she didn't come flying off it."

Tom chuckled as Sybbie began squirming and he set her on the ground and she promptly began stomping one foot and loudly saying "gid up gid up" and would have taken off running if her father hadn't stopped her.

"Sybbie" Tom admonished her. "We don't run or yell here." He looked up at Mary "between the train ride and here it's been a rather quiet morning for her and I'm afraid all that pent up energy is-"

"Maybe we should move somewhere she can run and yell and I know just the place." Although she didn't voice it she also silently said to herself _and where no one else will see you and Sybbie._

* * *

Tom looked at the small truck and then at Mary. "You" the astonishment clear in his voice "you can drive this?"

Mary, clearly reveling in Tom's amazement, proudly nodded her head. "Actually Matthew taught me to drive in this. He bought it to drive around the estate now I do the same."

Smiling and clearly pleased Tom chimed "first you become the Estate Manager now you're driving! It's certainly a new Lady Mary."

As the truck bounced along a rutted dirt track Mary could sense Tom carefully watching her but she was determined not to let him rattle her. They crested a small hill that opened onto a meadow brimming with patches of colorful wildflowers and Mary stopped the truck. "Will this spot do for a picnic?"

Tom took in his surroundings, noted the small pond in the distance, and the nearby woods. "It's a lovely place for a picnic and actually Sybil and I came here several times."

His words caused Mary to raise her brow in that way she had. "Why do I think there is so much about you and Sybil and that we don't know."

"Well when you have a friendship for years that you have to hide and keep secret well …" Tom shrugged his shoulders. But before he could add anything else an excited Sybbie stood up, her eyes wide open at the thought of running around the meadow. He no sooner set her on the ground than she took off chasing after a butterfly.

Mary watched her niece joyfully running and once was again reminded of Sybil who as a child found just such delight in chasing butterflies or bunny rabbits or Papa's dog while she and Edith would sit quietly reading books. Her thoughts on Sybil she turned and looked at Tom who was smiling as he watched his daughter run through the grass.

"After that night … when we came to get her at the Swann Inn … I spent the drive home thinking that Sybil could probably have any man she wanted. Heavens know she was much more successful in her season that either me or Edith. I asked Sybil how she could possibly know you so well that she'd want to spend her life with you." Mary averted her eyes from Tom and looked off the distance towards the dull blue of a small pond that peaked through trees.

"Would you have rather seen Sybil with someone like that arse Larry Grey?"

Mary, fearing she had insulted him, looked in panic at Tom but found his eyes twinkling and a smile on his lips.

After a moment or two Mary continued but her voice was softer. "I … I mean you drove us back and forth to the village and to Ripon how could she know you well? She gave me that sly smile and shook her head. Oh Mary she said he was never just the chauffeur to me, he was someone to talk with about those things that interested me, things you and the rest of our family doesn't care about … books and politics and life in general. Then she gave a shrug and maybe a little laugh and said we didn't just confine our talks to the motor car and we've been friends for a long time."

"Aye we were friends although I'm not sure when either of us would exactly admit that but definitely through our talks we became friends as unlikely as that may sound." He looked at Mary. "But don't you think a good friendship is the basis for romance?"

Mary gave a slight nod of her head while she looked deep in thought. "I guess I'd say Matthew and I were friends but it took us quite a bit of time to get there."

"Well you and Matthew had other issues."

Mary raised her brow in question at him.

"He came here to take what you thought should be yours." Tom smiled at her. "Not the best way to start a friendship or a romance." Then he chuckled "I know a lot of people questioned Sybil and my romance. But money, position, class and all those things had no importance to us."

After helping to spread a blanket on the ground, Tom went off to catch Sybbie who was wandering away. Mary admired how natural and at ease he seemed with his daughter, much more so than she was with George.

"Now don't tell you made the sandwiches, boiled the eggs and baked the tarts too?" Tom, holding Sybbie, jokingly laughed as he looked at the array of goodies Mary had spread onto a blanket.

"I think I've taken on enough duties that I think I can leave the cooking to someone else" Mary replied in the same lighthearted manner.

* * *

"That was quite unexpected which makes it all the more delicious" Tom said as he finished the last of the wedge of cheese tart. "I thought it would be a stale ham sandwich on the train ride back."

"Why didn't you drive here today?" Mary asked.

Tom shook his head. "Sybbie hasn't perfected the art of sitting still for such a long drive and Maeve couldn't come today. She's taking a secretarial course and had classes this morning."

"She's become a real asset to the business" he proudly pronounced as he once again tossed an orange, which was substituting for a ball, and Sybbie went rambling after it. "Maeve's taken over all the office work and is wonderful with the customers, applying that Irish charm" he winked at Mary.

Then laughing he continued "keeps Kiernan and me in line but I think she actually just relishes bossing her older brothers around."

"And of course she still helps me with Sybbie." He sat up, all gaiety gone as he stared at Mary. "I appreciate all the things you gave me the last time we were here. Some things I've displayed around the flat like that porcelain clock and other stuff is stored in boxes for when Sybbie is older. As I said Sybbie loves the rocking horse and I've read those books to her so many times I can recite them from memory but she loves the pictures. And those music boxes which Sybbie loves and I swear sometimes I still hear when I close my eyes at night."

"Really Tom most of that stuff was rightfully yours and things that belonged to Sybil as a child should go to her child."

Tom nodded, then took ran his hand through his hair as he took a deep breath but before he could say anything Mary said. "I love the photograph you sent me of her on the horse." She looked over to Sybbie who was now trying to bounce the orange. "She's growing so fast. I can't believe the changes just since that photograph."

"Well it is almost a year. I took that on her birthday" Tom replied "and her next birthday isn't even two months away."

"You didn't need to send the money." Tom's voice had taken a different tone, not quite defiant yet something that surprised Mary.

Mary looked at him. "Money? I didn't sent you any money."

"Mary" Tom began "we may not be getting rich but the garage is doing alright and granted I can't give Sybbie half of what you can give-"

"Tom I didn't send you any money." Mary was quite adamant. "Even if I wanted to I wouldn't know where to send it. You've never given me your address or even told me exactly where you're living and the envelope with the photograph didn't have a return address."

He stared at her. "If you didn't who did?"

Mary shook her head. "Why ever would you think …" she suddenly stopped talking as she remembered that conversation with Granny.

" _I was in the village today." Something in her grandmother's voice caused Mary to sit up._

" _I saw a young woman walking with a little girl that looked quite like Sybil at that young age._

"Granny" Mary quietly uttered. But would Granny have actually done it?

 _Might this have something to do with your mysterious disappearance this morning?"_

 _Granny I have no idea what you're talking about._

" _That child was Sybil's child."_

" _Why ever would Sybbie be in the village? Really Granny just because she had dark hair and blue eyes doesn't mean she's Sybil's daughter. I'm sure there are a lot of dark haired blue-eyed two year olds."_

"Granny" Mary said louder and more firmly.

"Your grandmother?" Tom sounded incredulous. "Why every would the dowager send me money?"

Mary took a deep breath. "Last year Granny saw Sybbie in the village with Maeve. She confronted me but I denied it was Sybbie. Told her she was imagining the child she saw was Sybbie because of her guilty conscience."

" _That child was Sybil's child." Violet was adamant._

" _Maybe it's your guilty conscience that-"_

" _Guilty conscience!" A flabbergasted Violet rapped her cane indignantly on the floor. "Why would I have a guilty conscience? Why ever would you say such a thing?"_

 _Mary could feel her anger rise as her muscles tightened and her heartbeat quickened. She could not believe Granny's words for of all the people Mary knew her grandmother was the most astute. She didn't bother hiding that anger as her voice sounded sharp, a tone she had never used before with Granny. "You and Papa drove Tom away."_

 _Mary rose from her chair and began pacing across the bedroom not daring to look at Granny. "He could have worked with Matthew on the estate but you and Papa only saw him as a …" She turned her back on her grandmother as she stopped in front of the window. "And look what's happened. Your great-granddaughter … Sybil's child is lost to us."_

 _Taking a deep breath she saw not the view of the front lawn but little Sybbie in her pretty blue and white checked dress, her arms held wide as she laughingly ran towards her father. Little Sybbie who was a striking image of her mother. Mary turned and faced Violet. Her anger hadn't been dispelled but she knew she had to control it and the softness of her voice was in a way more biting. "Sybil loved him Granny. She loved him very much and you and Papa should have acknowledged that and should have accepted him and the child. The child that Sybil lost her life giving birth to because of Papa's …" Mary lost her composure as tears began to flow down her cheeks._

"She must have …" Mary paused as her mind wondered had she really gotten through to Granny. "You know Granny how when she sets her mind on something. How did the money come to you?"

"A firm of solicitors contacted me. Apparently there's been a trust set up and each January 1 there's five hundred pounds I can draw on for that year."

"Five hundred pounds!"

"I'm just as amazed as you Mary by that amount." Indeed he was for he had never made anywhere near 500 pounds in a year.

Tom looked at his daughter who was now happily waving a stick around. "At first I thought of telling the solicitors they could send the money right back to whoever set the thing up but then I thought about-" he paused as he took a deep breath. "I realized it was my anger and my pride that would deny Sybbie things I can't afford. I could hire someone to look after her while I'm working, she wouldn't have to stay confined in that tiny play area I had set up and I could work in peace not constantly worrying about her."

"That sounds sensible Tom."

"It's worked out really well hiring someone to look after Sybbie but it's just during the day while Maeve and I are working. Of course that didn't use the whole 500 so much of it is still sitting there."

Mary looked at Sybbie who was still brandishing the stick while chasing a yellow and black butterfly. "Of course I can't ask Granny if she sent the money without letting her know I've talked to you." She looked at Tom "but you seem not to want anyone to know that."

Brushing off the crumbs that clung to his suit, Tom stood up and for a moment Mary feared he was going to walk away but then she realized he was composing what he wanted to say and she feared it was something she didn't want to hear.

"When Sybbie and I left Downton, I know I left angry and hurt and certainly still full of mourning. I left for many reasons which I don't need to explain but probably one of the greatest ones was that I couldn't stay where Sybil … where …" His voice faltered "Even now I can't face seeing the place where Sybil died." He cast his eyes in the direction of the grand house of which only the top of the tallest tower was visible over the treetops.

Keeping his face turned in that direction he paused before continuing. "But that's not really why I've been leery of your family. I've been afraid Mary." He turned and faced her. "Especially afraid to let your father see Sybbie. I thought that if he saw her, saw her as his granddaughter, he'd try to take her from me. That he realize he couldn't let the granddaughter of the Earl of Grantham be raised by a mechanic and living over a garage."

Mary, stunned by the depth his revelation, tried digesting what Tom had said. Would Papa ever do such a thing?

Still standing Tom looked all around him at the bucolic scenery so different from his crowded Liverpool neighborhood where there was nary a tree. "I've forgotten how lovely it is here. All the greenery and woods and pastures."

Mary sensed that Tom wanting no further discussion on her family or the money deliberately changed the direction of the conversation.

Mary also stood up. "I see it differently than before. I have a new appreciation for it all now that I'm managing the estate. I'm determined that there will be something for George to inherit." At that their conversation turned to estate matters with Mary asking Tom's opinion on various issues.

* * *

"Don't take us to the train station. I want to spend a few more minutes with Sybil" Tom told Mary as she drove them back to the village. From the leather bag he carried he pulled out a small hairbrush. "You want to look pretty for your mummy" he said to Sybbie. But Sybbie made it quite clear she didn't want to remove her crown of colorful wildflowers that she and Mary had woven.

Tom turned to face Mary. Shrugging his shoulders he said "she can be quite stubborn at times."

"And does that surprise you?" Mary jokingly asked.

"I just hope that she inherits some of our better qualities too" Tom laughingly replied.

It had been a wonderful day thought Mary and she was sorry to see it end. The more she talked to Tom the more she realized how much he had to offer and she valued hearing his opinions even when they didn't mesh with hers.

Stopping in front of the village church Mary was saddened to say goodbye to Tom and Sybbie. "Maybe she'll sleep on the ride back to Liverpool."

"If I'm lucky" Tom chuckled.

"It's been a grand day Mary."

"It has been Tom" she responded. "I just wish I'd see you more often."

"It's hard for me to get away from the garage."

"I understand Tom I just wish that-" Mary began but Tom spoke at almost the same moment.

"Who knows what the future will bring" he said as he opened the truck's passenger door.

He had taken two or three steps toward the church gate when he stopped and then turning around towards her he doffed his hat as he gave her a warm smile. "If nothing else same time next year."

Then turning once again towards the graveyard, holding Sybbie's hand, her head still topped by the wildflower crown, the two of them walked away.

 **Thanks for the reviews of the last chapter. As always any reviews would be appreciated. I'm not sure how many years I'm going to cover, I do have a few specific years in mind, but how many will also depend on your interest.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you so much for the reviews of the past chapter. This is one of the longest chapters I've ever written and I've thought of eliminating a few of the scenes but in the end decided to just go with it. I think you'll be surprised by the ending of this chapter so as ever I'd appreciate your thoughts.**

 **May 1924**

Mary stands in front of one of the bedroom's tall windows where sunlight streams in casting her in a warm glow. She smiles at the sight outside her window for it seems as if the seemingly unending grip of winter has finally disappeared for the dull browns of winter have been replaced by the colors of spring. Everywhere she looks the trees are now full and lush with the green of new leaves. The field in front of the house is no longer brown barren land but now a mass of newly green grass and in the distance that green is broken by a wide strip of bright yellow of daffodils on the mound leading up to the pillared temple called Jackdaws Castle.

That folly had always been a favorite place of hers. As children she and her sisters had spent many summer afternoons playing there. Even now she liked to wander over there and sit on the stone steps from where she had a magnificent view of the house. Sometimes she'd close her eyes and she'd vision a young energetic Sybil darting around those pillars and, if she concentrated enough, she'd hear that delightful laugh of Sybil's. She was always surprised those images didn't bring a tear but rather made her smile in appreciation of those happy days of childhood spent with her winsome youngest sister.

 _Oh Sybil darling can you imagine that I actually look forward to this day. I'm sure you're giggling thinking that one of the best days of my year is the day I spent with your beloved Tom!_ With that thought Mary took one long last look at the sky. Reflecting that last year this day had begun quite stormy she loves this morning there is sunshine and the sky's a vivid cloudless blue and she smiles thinking that it will be a perfect day for a picnic.

"You seem quite chipper this morning my lady" Anna comments at Mary as she set about folding Mary's nightclothes.

In a lighthearted manner, which only emphasized Anna's description of her, Mary replied "well it looks like it'll be a beautiful day. After such a gloomy start to spring how can one not be happy to see the sun shining and the trees in bloom?"

Anna chuckled. "Of course my lady. It's just that-" holding the nightclothes draped over her arm she looked at Mary quite surprised at her words.

"What you think I can't appreciate a beautiful day?" Mary asked teasingly.

Mary turned back to look out the window. "I think Anna that being the Estate Manager has made me more conscious of the weather and the seasons."

"Well whatever the reason it's nice to see you in especially good spirits."

"Anna I think you're confusing me with Lady Edith. Now there's someone gloomy and morose. All those months in that the good Swiss air doesn't seem to have revitalized her."

"Well I have better things to do with my time than think of Edith." Mary quickly closed her eyes and shook her head as if trying to eliminate all thoughts of Edith. Mary picked up her gloves from the vanity table. "I'll probably be gone all day … may not be back until tea time."

Anna could swear there was a swing in her step as Mary walked out of the bedroom. It was most peculiar thought Anna.

* * *

Tom set the bouquet on the top of the sheet of stone. He kissed his fingertips and then touched the stone, resting his hand there he closed his eyes and said a silent prayer. Sybbie standing beside him, holding the hand of her Aunt Maeve, mimicked her father although her hand couldn't quite reach the top of the high gravestone.

But instead of a prayer, Sybbie Branson said loudly "Wake up Mummy" as her little hand beat against the stone.

"Sybbie darling Mummy isn't there. She's in heaven."

"But if Mummy isn't here why we here?"

Tom glanced at his sister as if pleading for help but like him Maeve has no good answer to Sybbie's question.

"Daddy why's mummy in heaven and not here with us?"

Tom looked down at his daughter whose face was looking up at the sky. He saw the clear blue eyes of his daughter, eyes that so reminded him of her mother, and took a deep breath. He wasn't prepared for this conversation. How do you explain death to a not quite four-year-old?

He kneeled down beside Sybbie, his hand gently caressing the side of her face. "It's just where she's needed."

"But" Sybbie looked from her father to the stone slab that was Sybil's grave and then lifted her face to look at the sky. "But I want to see her" the child whined as she stomped her foot.

Tom picked up Sybbie and stood holding her. "You did see her once. She held you in her arms and I think it was the happiest I ever saw her." The image of that night, of Sybil holding their newborn daughter and Tom sitting beside her on that bed, came to him unbidden. For just that short glorious time they had been a family. He quickly blinked his eyes, he couldn't cry, not now, not in front of Sybbie.

Standing just inside the wooden gate of the graveyard, Mary was happy to spot Tom and Sybbie standing by Sybil's grave. She wasn't surprised since he had written her that he'd be here but she knew that plans sometime fell through. Although looking at Tom, Mary thought that probably nothing would stop him from coming here on this day.

As it always did Mary's sight drifted from Tom and Sybbie standing by Sybil's grave to Matthew's grave. She felt a slight bit of embarrassment, or was it shame, that Tom made an effort to come all this way to visit Sybil's grave and yet she who could easily walk here so rarely did.

"But Daaaddy"

Mary quickly turned at the sound of Sybbie's wailing. As she looked at them Mary realized that something seemed wrong, that Tom looked a bit … addled.

Just then Maeve spied her and the young woman warmly smiled at her while tugging on her brother's arm.

"Mary" Tom quickly called out in greeting. As she began walking towards them she thinks Tom looks relieved and she wonders again as to what was going on.

* * *

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised but I'm just not prepared" Tom carelessly ran his hand through his hair as he and Mary sat on the lone wooden bench in the graveyard. Shaded by the overhanging drooping branches of an oak tree planted on the other side of the low stone wall that bordered the graveyard, the bench provided a clear view of both Sybil's and Matthew's graves. Maeve had cajoled Sybbie into going with her to find a sweets shop leaving her and Tom alone.

"We often talk about Sybil and of course Sybbie sees the photographs of her." As Tom talked Mary imagined his flat was filled with photographs of Sybil. "But she's at the age when she realizes her playmates have mothers who are there and she just can't understand why her mother isn't."

Although he looked away from her Mary could see that Tom's eyes had filled with tears. "How can I explain to her something that I can't understand?" Tom's voice quivered as he spoke. "I mean I understand death but I can't understand why Sybil was taken from us so soon. One year. We had one blessed year together."

Mary quietly reached over and took Tom's hand in hers. Tom closed his eyes, shook his head and took a deep breath. Opening his eyes he turned to face Mary. "Sorry about that."

"You've nothing to be sorry about Tom. It's strange how you think your grief is over, that you can look at their picture or remember some event and you smile fondly instead of breaking out in tears and then something …" Mary looked off towards Matthew's headstone "and then something … it might be the smallest of things but it cuts into your heart once again and you're reminded of that aching loss."

And although Mary thought it she didn't say aloud _an aching loss that you think another man might help you forget but the time you spend with them just reminds you how special Matthew was and that you're not really ready for someone new._

* * *

"I think your advice will really pay off Tom" Mary said as she proudly showed him the newly created repair shop. "It was definitely wise to buy the tractor you recommended and I think the tenants are quite pleased how it has eased their work. The Bolton lad has enthusiastically taken on the responsibility for not only driving it for all the tenants but for keeping it in good shape."

Tom walked around what had once been a neglected barn that now housed the tractor as well as the newly initiated repair shop. Mary had the feeling that Tom felt at home here and that he could have spent the rest of the day here talking about the various tools and ways to expand the use of the shop. She chuckled at how even Sybbie seemed familiar with some of the tools and she nodded as Sybbie pointed out "wrench" and "spanner" although she herself had absolutely no idea of their use.

"I think you could spend all day here Tom" Mary began quite thankful that Timmy Bolton was busy elsewhere or else Tom might not leave and she had more places to show him.

* * *

"So Lady Mary the pig farmer!" Tom chuckled as they stood at the wood railing of the pig sty. He had been impressed with her rattling on about the estate as she had deftly motored them around. She had shown them newly planted fields of corn, barley and oilseed rape as well as a new commodity for the estate, sugar beets. Of course there had also been fields and fields of sheep. Much to Sybbie's delight they had stopped at one such field where newly born lambs huddled near their mothers. Watching Sybbie fuss over the lambs Mary was reminded once again of her neglect in sharing such things with little George.

"Laugh all you want but I've done my research and I'll have you know this should be quite profitable for the estate" Mary retorted. "In a year or two you'll see that everyone will want Downton bacon on their breakfast table."

"Oink! Oink!" Sybbie laughed. "Oh Daddy look there's a baby piggy!" Sybbie clapped her hands as she bent down to look between the wooden rails.

"Can I pet the baby piggy Aunt Mary?"

"I'm afraid his moth-" Mary quickly clamped her mouth shut thinking it might not be good to bring up the word mother even if she was talking about a pig. Mary leaned down and put her hand on Sybbie's back. "Pigs don't like to be touched Sybbie so you'll just have to look at him from here."

"Well speaking of bacon I think I could certainly go for some lunch" Tom announced. "How about the Grantham Arms?"

"I think I can do much better than the Grantham Arms" Mary said as she stood up.

* * *

"So how does this spot seem for a picnic?" Mary asked as she slowly eased the motor car to a stop. At the top of a hill with a view of Dunsmere lake below and gently rolling hills dotted with trees partitioned by stone fences into fields, some of which had sheep grazing contentedly on the green grass, it was indeed a lovely spot for a picnic.

"Much smoother than last year." Ignoring the view Tom instead was watching Mary. "I think you've really gotten the hang of driving a motor car."

"Well I certainly get a lot of practice driving around an estate this large. I can't imagine back in the day when my father had to go around the estate on horse drawn cart."

Standing beside the motor car, taking in the view Maeve asked "Is all this part of Downton?"

"All in that direction" swept her hand to the left and then center. "But there" she pointed to the right "the estate goes to just this side of those last hills."

Maeve marveling that one person could own all this land, focused on the lake. It looked so calm and inviting compared to the sea where her family had sometimes holidayed. "That lake looks wonderful for a swim on a fine summer day."

Mary frowned. "I'm afraid I've don't swim. There were a couple of times Mama organized picnics there, generally to impress potential suitors, and we'd have row boat races."

" _Tom are you sure you know how to row a boat?"_

" _I don't think it takes a genius to row a boat Sybil"_

" _But we're going in circles."_

" _I just thought you'd like to see the view from all angles."_

" _I'd like to see the view from the middle of the lake."_

" _Is there some rule that I have to rush there?"_

" _Tom!"_

" _Okay … okay if you insist"_

" _Tom!"_

" _I said-"_

" _Log! Tom you're going to hit that-"_

 _The row boat tilted precariously but Tom was quite proud he managed to keep it upright. Sybil however didn't seem quite so impressed._

" _Just how to you propose getting this boat back to shore with no oars?"_

 _He looked in panic as he saw the two oars floating away._

"Tom!"

Startled out of his reverie Tom looked first at Maeve and then Mary "What?"

"You seem to have drifted off."

"It does like a fine place for a swim" Tom piped up. "Although I imagine that water is too cold for a swim in the summertime."

Mary had seen that look on Tom before. "Is there something you care to share with us Tom?"

"What?" Tom could feel his face flush. "I'm not sure I know what you mean.

Mary and Maeve passed a knowing look between them and Maeve couldn't help but giggle.

* * *

"Somehow I never pictured you like this" Tom, leaning back against the tall oak tree that shaded most of the blanket, said as he looked over at Mary.

"Picture me like what?"

"Remember the time the family visited" he paused as if he himself was trying to recall something. "What was that place … when your father thought you'd have to leave Downton" he furrowed his brow as if deep in thought. "Downton Place" he smiled that it had finally come to him. "Downton Place" he repeated. "We had a _picnic_ there" he said the word as if it was something bad. "Only it was linen covered tables and folding chairs and fine china and of course footmen serving."

"And your point is?

Tom rolled his eyes. "That _Lady_ Mary wouldn't be caught sitting on a blanket eating sandwiches."

"Tom if you're implying I've changed you're right. I have changed but then circumstances have demanded I change."

She looked at him. "I don't mean just because of Matthew but …" she turned to gaze out across the field with the lake now shimmering in the sun's rays. "I love Downton and I want to be able to leave it for George. But Papa … Papa can't quite seem to grasp the changes we need to keep Downton going. He thinks we can just keep going on as before and somehow it will all work out. You wouldn't believe the resistance he put up to the pigs and even the sugar beets and you can imagine his thoughts about the new tractor and the repair shop."

"And of course he bristles at the slightest hint or suggestion that there was mismanagement of the estate. But it's made me realize the research I have to do. You've been an unbelievable help in pointing me in the right direction. You'd probably laugh seeing the way I pour over farming magazines and journals."

She laughed. "Yes fashion magazines have been replaced by those for farm equipment and I eagerly await my weekly copy of _The Yorkshire Agricultural Digest."_

"See Mary, just as I said you've changed."

"And I'll have you note Tom that while we didn't have tables and footmen we didn't eat sandwiches!"

Mary stood up and brushed crumbs off her skirt. "But now that I think about it I wish maybe I did have a chair. I think I need to stretch my legs a bit. How about we take a short walk?"

* * *

Meave and Sybbie joined them on their walk although for most of it Sybbie would run ahead and Meave would chase after her. When they were back in sight of the motor car, Sybbie dashed off to find any remaining biscuits left from their picnic.

Mary stopped walking and stood watching Sybbie. "I've never taken George around the estate. Nanny takes him outside but I don't think they go very far. Actually I'm embarrassed to say that I don't really see him outside of the nursery or tea time in the library."

"Now that the weather is good take him outside. You don't have to worry about entertaining him. Look how content Sybbie was looking at the lambs and the piglets. Believe me he'll find plenty of things of interest."

Mary turned and smiled at him. "I wish we could talk more often. I don't have anyone here that I can really talk to. Papa and I usually end up fighting and Mama is consumed with Rose's coming out and Rose … well her only interests seem to be dancing and trying to see whatever she can get away with."

"What about Edith. You said she's back."

"Oh please Tom. Yes she's finally come back from months in Switzerland but all she does is mope about the house. I swear she's gloomier than ever."

Tom laughed. "So you haven't completely changed!"

"Seriously Tom if you had to spend time with her you'd … well … you'd …"

"Now Mary don't be so harsh."

"You sound like Sybil. She was always the peacemaker."

"Why can't you and Edith get along?"

Mary shook her head. "From the earliest I can remember we'd fight. She'd steal my doll or pull my hair."

"And you never did such things to her?"

"Well if I did it was because she deserved it."

Tom shook his head. "Sybil never understood what was wrong between you two. She couldn't imagine why you two couldn't see the best of each other rather than the worst."

Mary eyes softened. "Darling Sybil. Only she'd see the best in us." Mary took a deep breath. "She deserved better sisters than either me or Edith."

"Don't be so hard on yourself Mary. She loved both of you" then teasingly added "whatever your faults."

"You tell me not to be so hard on myself and now you're admitting I have faults?"

Tom chuckled. "Just being honest Mary."

"See that's what I've been talking about. I need someone like you to talk to."

Sybbie's laughter drew attention and they watched her marching around.

"Do you ever think of seeing someone Tom?"

"What do you mean?"

"Of courting someone. Having someone to share your life with."

"You mean getting married again?"

"If it comes to that."

Tom ran his hand through his hair and looked at his daughter who was happily picking wildflowers with Maeve. He smiled at the sound of her laughter. "I'm not at that stage yet Mary and honestly I'm not sure if I ever will be."

* * *

"There's somewhere I'd like to stop before we go to the railway station."

While Mary hadn't been surprised by Tom's request for she knew that he took these visits to remember his time with Sybil she was absolutely stunned when he told her where he wanted to go. "Are you sure?" she couldn't help but ask.

Stopping just outside of the high brick wall, the house visible through the open iron gates Mary asked again if Tom was sure he wanted to go on.

"Aye Mary" he said quietly. "It's something I need to do."

As Mary drove up the wide gravel drive Tom reflected how on many times he had made this drive. During his time as chauffeur he had probably driven here more than anywhere else. Looking out the window at the manicured lawn he thought the only changes here were from the color of the seasons. Today the lawn and trees were bright green with a splash of color from some late blooming bulbs.

As Mary stopped the motor car at the steps leading to the front door Tom turned to her and said "I'd like just Sybbie and I to go in."

It was just five steps up to the front door but Tom hesitated half-way there. Although he had been here countless times, he had never entered this doorway. Not even when he and Sybil had fled back to Downton had he ever been inside this house.

Other than Isobel she rarely had unexpected guests so Violet Crawley was quite surprised when Sprat announced that she had a visitor. She was thankful she was seated in her favorite wingback chair for she might have fallen when Sprat moved and Tom Branson and his daughter stood facing her.

"Branson" she uttered without thinking before turning her attention to the little girl.

She wasn't sure what was the greater surprise, the former chauffeur or the little girl holding his hand. Her hair wasn't her mother's dark unruly mop that never seemed to stay confined by ribbons but otherwise there could be no mistaking that this little girl was Sybil Crawley's daughter.

He nodded his head in greeting. "Your ladyship."

She made to stand but, dropping Sybbie's hand, Tom quickly stepped forward "please stay as you were. We only have a few minutes since we need to catch the train but I wanted to-" Tom faltered. He looked around the room which looked as formal and uncomfortable as any in the abbey.

"Please sit. I hate to have to look up to someone when I'm talking to them." Violet pointed to the small high backed love seat in front of her.

"I … we'll … just …"

As Tom fumbled Violet lifted her cane once again and pointed at the small loveseat opposite her. "Sit please."

He sat down uncomfortably and lifted a squirming Sybbie to sit beside him.

"I wanted to come in person and thank you for the money. The fund you set up for Sybbie." He looked at his daughter and his face lit up with his smile.

"I guess there's no point in my denying I set up the fund but how did you know it was me?"

"I thought at first it was Mary but she seemed stunned when I confronted her about it and quite frankly I can't imagine his lordship doing so not after he-"

"It's best not to get into those things" Violet waved her hand.

"So you were the most logical one." Tom smiled "And you were the one that sent the money for us to come to Mary and Matthew's wedding."

Thinking of that disastrous dinner with that horrid Larry Gray Violet remarked "Another occasion with events we won't talk about."

"I want you to know that I only use the money for Sybbie. It's allowed me to hire a lady to look after her while I'm at work which is so much better for both of us. I can concentrate on work and she's not confined to the closet size playroom I made for her off the garage." Tom found himself rapidly talking. "I haven't spent a penny on myself but then again I guess you could say I've benefitted from it."

Noting Sybbie's pretty red and checked dress with a matching red sweater, her white stockings and shiny black shoes which contrasted with Tom's cheap suit Violet had no doubt that the young man spoke the truth.

The awkwardness Tom was feeling was interrupted by Sybbie. "Daddy look" she said as she jumped off the sofa and ran towards the wall opposite. "Look Daddy that's mummy" she excitedly said pointing to a painting of the three Crawley sisters.

"Mummy" she said again as she stood on her toes trying to touch the painting which Tom thought must have been done when Sybil was about ten years old.

"Sybbie don't touch" Tom said as he hurried over to her.

Sybbie turned towards Violet. "You know my mummy!"

Violet was a bit bewildered but she was the _Dowager Countess_ and she quickly composed herself. "Yes I knew your" she hesitated "mummy."

"Does mummy come here?" an excited Sybbie continued as she, in a movement best be described as something between a walk and a skip made her way towards Violet, stopping to stand directly in front of the older woman.

Looking past Sybbie, Violet looked at Tom.

"Sybbie love Mummy lived near here when she was little like you." Tom picked up Sybbie. He looked at Violet. "I'm sorry your ladyship maybe I should have left her outside."

"I've said what I came to say so I best be going." He nodded at her and turned towards the door, still holding a squirming Sybbie.

"Wait Bran … Tom" Violet said as she stood up and then slowly walked over to a small table in the corner of the room.

"When your mummy was just a bit older than you" Violet said as she began walking towards Tom and Sybbie "she went to New York and she brought me this back." Violet opened her hand to reveal a silk hand fan with a hand painted scene of a blue dragonfly hovering near three large pink lotus flowers on a pale green background.

Sybbie's eyes had widened in fascination as Violet had snapped the fan open. "It's beautiful!"

"I think she would like it if I gave this to you" Violet said as she closed the fan and handed it to an eager Sybbie.

"Look Daddy" Sybbie said as she tried to snap open the fan but failed.

"Why don't you go on out to the motor car and show it to Aunt Mary and Aunt Maeve. I'm sure Aunt Mary can show you how to open it."

When Sybbie had darted out of the room Tom looked at Violet. "I'm -"

But he didn't get to say whatever it was before Violet interrupted him. "Lovely child."

Tom could swear there were actually tears in the old lady's eyes. Violet took a couple of steps away from him and rested her hand on the back of the loveseat. "She's so much like her mother who was a delightful, if rambunctious child."

Violet took a deep breath. "It looks as if you're doing a fine job in raising her child."

Then her composure in tack the Dowager Countess faced him. "I do hope Tom you'll bring her back here again."


	5. May 1925

**May 1925**

It had been so careless of her to leave the photograph lying on her dressing table. She hadn't even been looking at the photograph; it had been stuffed in an old calendar book that she had rummaged through this morning and, leaving in a hurry, she had forgotten to put in back in the book. And what were the odds that her mother, who rarely set foot in Mary's bedroom, would on that day of all days decide to return a pair gloves leaving them on the dressing table.

Her mother must have been watching for her because as Mary parked her small truck in front of the house one of the iron-studded doors opened and Cora hurriedly came out onto the gravel drive. "We need to talk" she said curtly as Mary stepped out of the truck.

"I need to take a bath and change clothes. I must smell of hay and-"

"We'll talk now Mary." There was no disguising the anger in Cora's voice. "I want to talk about this" she said as she held out the year old photograph of Sybbie.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was late but Mary couldn't sleep. Finally wrapping her silk dressing gown around her she headed down the staircase. Her silk-slippered feet made no sounds on the plush carpet as she walked across the lighted grand salon to the libary.

Instead of turning on one of the library's lamps, she left the door open and the light from the grand salon cast a pale swath across that end of the room. It was enough light for her to find the drinks tray. In the dimly lit room, which she thought matched her mood, she poured a glass of brandy and took a deep sip before sitting in the lounge chair. Leaning back she rested her head on the back of the chair.

 _How could you do this Mary? How could you see my granddaughter all these years and never tell me?_

She'd tell Tom first thing about Mama wanting to see Sybbie and would leave it up to him whether or not he'd meet her mother.

 _He won't come to the house. He won't come to the place where Sybil died. And he won't see Papa._

If Tom agreed she'd have Mama meet them in the garden after lunch. Mary took another sip of her brandy and let the warm liquid slide down her throat. Mary wouldn't ask Mama to have lunch with them for that was her time with Tom and she had so much to talk to him about. Was that being selfish of her? Mary took another sip of brandy. She didn't care.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The mist that had engulfed Liverpool quickly disappeared as the train left the city and sped eastward away from the Irish Sea but it wasn't until they left Manchester, its tall industrial chimneys filling the air with smoke, that the gray sky became a light blue and the scenery became more rural. A few puffy clouds cast shadows here and there on newly plowed fields or pastures green with spring grass and dotted with grazing sheep. Tom had intended to read the morning newspaper but it lay folded on the seat beside him; instead he passed the time looking out the window at the Yorkshire countryside streaming by. The gently rolling hills and stone walls that separated green fields often filled with grazing sheep reminded him how much this countryside resembled Ireland.

On this fine spring morning the world outside his window looked fresh and clean and draped in the colors of spring; it was quite a contrast to the brownness of Liverpool. His thoughts turned to those long ago days in Downton when he drove down country lanes dappled in sunshine filtering through banks of trees, of spending his half-days off sitting in the shade of a tall oak reading a book, of sitting by one of the ponds enjoying the sunshine and eating his packed lunch. It wasn't long before his musings of Downton turned to _her._ The blue of her eyes were as beautiful as the sky on a lovely spring day, her skin as soft as down and always faintly smelling of the scent of sweet lilacs, her smile as dazzling as a field awash in the pinks and purples of flowering azaleas. Her smile … in his dreams and thoughts he always saw her smiling and her smiles had never been more radiant than six years ago today when she had become his wife.

In looked down at his daughter who was nestled beside him, her head resting against his side, her eyes closed as the gentle swaying of the train had prodded her to sleep. Most would think the anniversary of the day Sybil died would be the worst for him but that day had given him this precious gift, his daughter. While those first years of Sybbie's young life, when she had no concept of death or birth, that day had been more about Sybil's death but as Sybbie had aged it had become more of a celebration of Sybbie's life. So in many ways this day, his wedding anniversary, was the hardest of the year for Tom because he was reminded how the hopes and dreams of that day, the promises of love, had been shattered. He leaned his head and kissed the top of Sybbie's head.

Xxxxxxx

"So what do you think?" Mary turned her head to look at her brother-in-law who was staring straight ahead off into the distance. Instead of repeating herself she stared intently at him. There had been something different about Tom today, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. It wasn't about her mother for he had calmly accepted that; no there was something else that was bothering him.

He had been quiet, pensive even, at the graveyard and Maeve had led her and Sybbie away on a walk giving him some time alone at Sybil's grave. When they had returned almost thirty minutes later his broad smile and outstretched arms that beckoned his daughter couldn't quite mask his tear stained deep blue eyes. Kneeling down, he had hugged Sybbie tightly and kissed the top of her head before finally looking up at Mary and asking "So what lunch plans do you have for today?"

During lunch he had been a bit quiet but that might have been because, much to Mary's amusement, Sybbie had been quite chatty and careened from one subject to another, some rather mundane ( _why don't we have sandwiches like this at home Daddy?)_ and some rather unexpected such as looking overhead at a passing cloud and asking _Aunt Mary what do you think it would be like riding on a cloud?_ As she listened to her niece prattle away in her pleasing lightly Irish accented voice Mary realized Sybbie had left all vestiges of the toddler years and was now a little girl.

" _She's quite a bundle of energy" Mary commented as Sybbie hopped and jumped and skipped towards the old wooden fence that separated this field and the one beyond where ducks lazily glided across a pond._

 _Looking at his daughter Tom chuckled. "Sometimes I get tired just watching her move."_

" _And quite a conversationalist too" Mary laughed._

" _Aye she is. My Ma says I was always a talker and I don't imagine Sybil was shy so I guess Sybbie just comes by it naturally. Certainly keeps me on my toes."_

 _Tom leaned back, propping himself on his elbows, his face tilted upward as if soaking in the sun's rays. "It's a treat being out in the fresh air and sunshine. I remember when I first came to Downton I wasn't sure I'd get use to the open spaces and the quietness but now I often find myself longing for those afternoons I'd find some quiet place on the estate to eat my lunch or read a book."_

 _Mary chuckled. "I guess I never really appreciated the estate until I took over running it. I used to dream about living like Aunt Rosamund in a grand house in London but now I find when I go to London after a day or two I'm ready to come back here."_

" _So how are things going here these days?" he asked and like that the conversation turned to Mary's trials and tribulations running Downtown._

He had listened while she talked about estate matters and as always provided pithy comments and suggestions. She valued his insights as he was the only person who truly listened to her in regards to the estate. Papa, she had learned, had no business acumen and if Downton was to be a viable concern in the coming years it was truly up to her. From estate matters she had veered the conversation into falling in love again but as she had talked about Tony, Charles Blake, and Henry, she sensed Tom drifting.

"Tom?"

He looked at her. "What?"

"Have you even been listening to me?"

He wouldn't admit that he had only been half listening, not really concentrating on what she was saying.

"It's hardly my area of expertise Mary." That sounded like a safe thing for him to say.

"I'm sorry if I'm boring you but I just have no one to talk to Tom."

He had started to say you're in a house full of people but then remembered that Sybil had also complained of having no one to talk to and so he remained silent letting Mary rattle on.

"I can barely talk to Papa about the estate let alone any private matters and Mama … well I never have confided in Mama."

"And Edith …" Mary snorted. "Never could talk to her. Still fluttering back and forth to London for that magazine. Oh! Guess I should say that Gregson chap is dead and he left her the magazine."

Mary couldn't read the look on Tom's face and she looked away remembering he had once been a journalist. She quickly moved on "she hadn't seen him in over a year but when she got word of his death she moped around as if she was the only person to ever lose someone. Now she's taken in that child from the Drewes and is so consumed with her. I can't imagine how she'll be if she ever becomes a mother. But then again it's Edith so I doubt-"

This time Tom's stare caught her cold.

"Maybe we should get to the garden" she said as she began packing up the remains of their luncheon.

xxxxxxxxxxx

Tom, standing just inside the open iron gate built into one of the stone archways, looked out across the Monks Garden. He thought this walled garden with its manicured lawn and elaborately trimmed yew bushes was another sign of the waste of the aristocracy as the family rarely visited it. Even the annual garden party hadn't been held within these stone walls but rather in the broad lawn in front of the house. When he had lived here as the chauffeur he had occasionally come here despite it being off limits to the servants. Walking around the perfectly manicured lawn he'd envision those long ago monks who had lived here walking along these same paths within these stone walls contemplating life and the hereafter or whatever it was that monks contemplated. He, however, contemplated _her._

"Daddy look!" Sybbie exclaimed. Spotting the yew bushes that had been formed into arched tunnels she made a mad dash for the nearest one quickly disappearing inside. Popping out of the other end she yelled at her father "come catch me" before disappearing once again. The doting father willingly obliged and the two of them played a game of cat and mouse with Sybbie's shrieks of laughter shattering the garden's silence. They played until Tom, hiding just outside one of the openings, quickly snatched her and held her up in the air, her hardy laugh ringing throughout the garden.

But he hadn't come here to this garden to play chase with his beloved daughter. Still holding his daughter in his arms Tom looked at Cora sitting on a wooden bench placed between two of the yew arches. He took a deep breath as she rose and walked towards him.

Her smile was wide and seemingly sincere as her hand reached out to touch his arm. "It's good to see you Tom."

"My la-" he began before correctly himself. "Cora."

"And this" Cora said, her face beaming, "this must be Sybbie."

Tom set Sybbie down and knelt beside her. His voice was gentle betraying none of the emotions he felt at seeing his mother-in-law. "Love remember I said you'd meet your Grandma Cora today."

Sybbie vigorously nodded her head as she looked at Cora. "You're my mummy's mum" she proclaimed to Cora.

"Yes I am" Cora responded as she leaned over so that her face was only inches from her granddaughter's. She playfully ran her hand down one side of Sybbie's head. "When she was your age she liked to play here too."

"Did you chase her around the bushes?"

"I did" Cora nodded her head. "And she was hard to catch just like you were."

"Sybbie" Tom interrupted them "why don't you take your Grandma and sit on the bench."

xxxxxxxxxxx

Leaving Cora and Sybbie talking and laughing with Maeve watching over them, Tom quietly exited the garden for there was another place he wanted to see on this visit. In just a matter of minutes he was standing in front of the garage surveying the sight as critically as if contemplating buying it.

"There's been no changes to it." He turned in surprise for he hadn't heard Mary's footsteps on the gravel drive.

"At least not on the outside" Mary smiled. "I have no idea what Pratt has done with the inside."

One of the garage doors was open and she nodded towards the empty space. "It's not here now, as I told you Papa's in York, but last year Papa bought a Sunbeam limousine.

Tom raised his brow. Mary chuckled "he does like his motor cars."

They stepped through the open garage door. "You know I don't think I've ever been in here before" Mary said as she looked around. "Pratt either brings the truck up to the house or leaves it out in the courtyard for me."

The garage was neat and clean. The tools that Tom had hung on a pegboard on the wall looked as if they hadn't been touched since he had left. He had always kept spare parts neatly boxed on the work bench and oil cans and spare tires stacked against the far wall but the work bench was empty and there were no oil cans or tires in sight. Tom wondered if Pratt even did any work on the motor cars. As if reading his thoughts Mary said "Judging by the bills he gives me unlike you Pratt doesn't do much of the maintenance himself."

Tom chuckled. "Maybe you should remind your father you didn't have such bills when I was the chauffeur."

Mary snickered. "He'd probably respond that at least Pratt isn't stealing one of his daughters."

"And can he be sure of that?"

"Oh please Tom. Pratt must be close to 70 and dull as dishwater!"

"So not one of your merry men vying for your attention?"

Mary rolled her eyes. "I think _good morning my lady_ is the longest sentence I've heard him say."

"I probably didn't say much more to you either."

Mary's eyes widened. "No I guess you didn't." She looked around the almost bare room as if trying to find something of interest. "I guess I wasn't very pleasant to you back then" she finally said.

Tom shrugged his shoulders. "You saw me only as the chauffeur not as a person."

"But it wasn't like that for Sybil was it?" She turned to face Tom.

The smile disappeared from Tom's face as he seemed to search the garage. Looking around he didn't see the emptiness; he saw the wall rack neatly filled with his tools, the window with a couple of pictures of his family tucked into its metal frames, the 1911 Renault all shiny and sparkling taking up half the floor space, and Sybil …

"It was here" he began quietly as he took a few steps across the garage floor "where she accepted my proposal and we first kissed." He looked back at the doorway. "I can still see her as she looked that night…"

His description of her sister that night was so vivid Mary looked towards the doorway as if expecting Sybil to be standing there.

"We have our memories Mary. You of Matthew. Me of Sybil. We were lucky to have such loves. Some people might never know the kind of love we had. If you're ready to love again … it won't be as it was with Matthew … but that doesn't mean it's any less."

"So you were listening to me earlier."

"Of course Mary I was listening."

He walked over to her and put his arm around her. "It isn't up to me whether this one or that one is the right one for you or even if it's the right time for you love again. That has to be up to you and no one else. You may never feel the kind of love you had with Matthew but that doesn't mean it isn't love or that you can't be happy."

Mary took a deep breath. "But you're not ready to love again."

He shook his head. "Just as love is different for everyone so too is grief."

Each of them lost in their own thoughts neither said anything for a couple of minutes.

He took a few steps away from her, his back towards her as he ran his hand along the work bench. "I had a reason for coming to the garage today. It holds so many memories for me and I wanted to see it one last time." He turned to face her "I'm moving back to Ireland."

"What?" his statement taking her by surprise.

"My mother is ill and she won't come to live with me in Liverpool." He spread his arms and raised his face as if looking at heaven and imitating a female with a heavy Irish accent said "I didn't live through the rising and the rebellion to finally see an Irish Free State only to die in England."

Mary laughed at what she assumed was his imitation of his mother. "Sorry Tom I didn't mean-"

Tom waved his hand. "My mother can be quite dramatic. I don't really think her illness is that serious but she's alone now with all of us gone."

"What about your business?"

"It's in good hands with Kiernan and to be honest we're not quite seeing eye to eye on where to go from here. The garage was a refuge for me after Sybil died and I'm thankful for him offering it to me but I've always wanted to do something more."

He leaned against the work bench. "About three months ago I was walking home and I saw this motor car that had trouble and I stopped to help. The man driving had just bought the thing a month before and wasn't too pleased with it and we began talking about various kinds of motor cars and well" he looked at her and smiled. "Funny thing is it turns out his brother-in-law owns a local Liverpool newspaper and offered me a job writing a bimonthly column on motor cars."

"That's wonderful Tom that you're back to writing again."

"Aye. He wanted to broaden the appeal of the newspaper so at his request I've written a few articles of particular interest to the Irish living in Liverpool."

"But now that you're writing why go back to Ireland especially if you're mother isn't really ill?"

"I don't know. Call it homesick. I want my daughter to be raised in Ireland. I just need a change."

"But what are you going to do for a living?"

"I'm still going to write for the Liverpool newspaper. I've used some of my writings to apply for jobs with newspapers in Dublin and I have a couple of interviews lined up."

"Well that's wonderful news Tom you being a journalist again." Mary was genuinely happy for him.

"Even if I don't get one of those jobs I'll keep trying and I can always work in another garage. With the money from your Grandmother I don't have to worry about Sybbie and we'll live with my mother for until I get something permanent."

He looked at. "I'm feeling good about making the changes … it's a new start but this time on my own terms. And who knows maybe there's some Irish lass that …" he shrugged.

He moved towards the doorway and Mary followed. On the gravel courtyard in front of the garage he stopped and turned around to look at the brick building that had once been part of the stables and that had been a part of his life for so many years. He stood silently looking at the garage and Mary wondered what he was thinking.

"I just wanted one last look at the place" he said softly as he stood looking at the garage. Then, blinking his eyes, he saw Sybil, looking as lovely as ever in a dark blue skirt and purple blouse, standing at the open garage door. Giving a slight nod of her head, she smiled at him.

xxxxxx

Clutching her stuffed teddy bear, a present from her Grandma Cora, in one hand, Sybbie's other hand took hold of Maeve as they walked into the railway station leaving Tom and Mary to alone.

There hadn't room in Mary's truck for Cora to come to the railway station with them so they had said their good-byes in the garden. Cora's voice quivered and tears had filled her eyes as she hugged Sybbie. Just as warmly she had hugged Tom and thanked him for bringing Sybbie to see her.

 _I'm sorry for everything that happened Tom._

 _It was a long time ago he had replied._

 _Her eyes full of hope she'd said please come back._

Cold and heartless, Mary knew that most everyone thought that of her and maybe for too long she had prided herself on not showing her emotions. Yet as she looked at Tom she had a hard time keeping her composure.

"Will you be back next year?" her voice was almost a whisper.

Tom shrugged slightly and ran his hand through his hair. "I'll try but being in Ireland in may not be so easy to do."

Mary nodded her head. "I truly hope everything works out for you in your move back to Ireland."

"I feel it's the right time and the right decision. A part of my heart will always be here." He looked away from her and towards Maeve and Sybbie who were standing on the station platform. "Will you sometimes leave some flowers on her grave for me?"

Mary reached out and grabbed Tom's hand. "Of course Tom."

He leaned in and kissed her cheek and she hugged him. "I may not be back next year but I will be back sometime."

"I'll look forward to seeing you again Tom."

He started towards the station but after three or four steps he stopped and turned around towards her. "You have a good strong mind and heart Mary. Make your own decisions … only you know what's best for you."


	6. May 1926

**A/N: Thank you for the wonderful reviews of the last chapter. This was going to be just a short bridge to the next chapter but I kinda got carried away. Hope you'll like it.**

 **MAY 1926**

"Why haven't you told me this before?" Henry, sitting on the edge of the bed, looked at his wife. He was astounded at the story Mary had just told him of meeting her brother-in-law once a year and how they'd spend the day together. He might have winced that she called Tom her most trusted advisor but then the man had been in her life much longer that he had and Henry would admit that he knew little of farming or running an estate.

Mary looked at his reflection in the vanity mirror and slightly sighed before setting her bottle of hand lotion on the vanity table. "It just …" she stalled as she fiddled with the bottle of lotion before finally turning around to face her husband. "I guess I just didn't think of telling you before. Last year when Tom came we weren't … well you and I were just getting to know each other so I didn't think of telling you."

"He comes every year on their anniversary?" Henry's voice sounded a mixture of incredulousness and curiosity.

Mary nodded. "It's strange that I even met him that first year. I don't think I'd been to the graveyard since …" Mary looked down at her hands "since Sybil's funeral but-" she stood and walked over to the window. Pulling the silk drapery back just a little bit more she looked out to what looked like a wonderful spring morning with the sun shining and the sky a vivid cloudless blue. It looked like the kind of morning that a young Sybil would beg her sisters to come outside and play.

Still fingering the soft drapery, Mary started talking again "that morning I went out for a walk and just ended up there in the cemetery. I'm not sure which of us was more surprised to see the other."

"And that was the first time you'd seen him since he'd left?" While Mary occasionally talked about her youngest sister and always in glowing terms, quite a contrast to how she talked about Edith Henry noted, it was usually stories of their childhood. When he had first become attracted to Mary, his aunt, a good friend of Violet Crawley, had told him about the family including the sad story of the death of the youngest Crawley daughter. Mary never really spoke of that night saying it was too painful to think of her sister's last minutes on this earth but she had said Sybil's death had torn her family apart.

"Papa never really accepted Sybil marrying Tom. He refused to attend their wedding and when they came back here after the trouble Tom got into in Ireland he-"

"What trouble did Tom get into in Ireland?" Henry interrupted her as this was the first he heard about this.

Mary took a deep breath and shook her head. "Tom was … is … an Irish republican and … well it was during that time that …" she turned back towards the window "It doesn't really matter now but it was just another excuse for Papa to dislike the man. To Papa Tom was just the chauffeur who had no place in this house especially after Sybil died." Her voice became softer and Henry had to strain to hear her. "He drove Tom away."

Henry had been in homes where a child had died, especially after the war it was almost impossible not to, family members still talked about their lost one and their photographs were often prominently displayed but not at Downton. The few photographs displayed of Sybil were of a young Sybil with her sisters and the rare mention of her name usually invoked an uncomfortable silence. In private, Mary of course talked of Sybil and even on a couple of occasions when he and Edith had been alone she had talked of her younger sister.

Mary slowly walked back to the vanity table and sat down facing Henry. "It was so wonderful to see Tom that day at the cemetery and to see the baby. Oh how many times I had thought of her and feared how she was living but that baby was loved and well cared for. Papa will never see it but Tom so loved Sybil."

Henry reached out and took Mary's hands in his. "Do you really think he'll come today? I mean now that he's living in Ireland."

Mary cast her eyes downward and nervously nibbled on her bottom lip. "I really don't know" she finally whispered. "The only communication I've had from him was a short note after Christmas when he said things were still unsettled and he didn't have a permanent address yet."

"Well I'll come with you … keep you company. I'd like to meet him."

Mary looked at Henry and gave him a wan smile. "That's quite sweet of you but I prefer meeting Tom alone." Seeing the look in Henry's eyes she quickly added "at least in the beginning. It's just that there are things I'd like to talk to him, things that probably wouldn't be of interest to you. I think you and Tom would get along quite well and if you're there I'm sure the conversation would drift to motor cars something you both have a great love for and which-"

"You don't have any interest in" Henry completed his wife's sentence. Mary nodded in agreement.

* * *

Henry had offered to drop Mary off at the cemetery on his way to York but it was such a lovely morning that Mary had decided to walk to the cemetery. _Really Henry it's not that far and I need the exercise besides you need to leave now and I doubt that Tom would be there this early._

The late morning air was warm making her stroll into the village quite pleasant. Mary stopped to exchange pleasantries with a couple of villagers and the wife of one of the tenants, a scene that in her not too distant past would have been almost unimaginable. At the churchyard's wooden gate she stopped, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. _If he comes he comes and if he doesn't he doesn't._

Taking a few steps into the churchyard she stopped and listened for the slightest peal of laughter from Sybbie or the soft murmurs of Tom's voice but there was only silence. Rounding the corner of the church and spying Sybil's grave the feeling of hope Mary had turned to disappointment for there was no one there. Slowly she walked toward further into the graveyard, passing Sybil's stone tomb before stopping in front of Matthew's headstone. As happy as she was now seeing those words _Matthew Reginald Crawley_ still brought a sorrow to her heart.

Kneeling she dropped the bundle of fresh flowers the gardener had picked her for that morning. Choosing an array of colorful lilacs she placed them in a metal vase that had been planted in front of the headstone. Leaning back she once again stared at the headstone's engraved words. _Beloved Husband and Father._ Running a finger over the word _father_ she whispered "George looks so much like you Matthew and he has so much of your personality."

She stood up. "Henry's a good father to him. We're both happy like I know you'd want us to be." She looked silently at the headstone for a few moments before kissing her fingertips and then touching the engraved _Matthew_. "I'll always love you Matthew. Always."

After arranging another bouquet at Sybil's grave Mary stood up. "I picked, well I had the gardener's pick" she gave a smile "flowers that I remember you had in your wedding bouquet." Her hand gently rubbing her sister's name she continued "you were so happy and looked so beautiful that day. I'm sorry I …" Mary took a deep breath and looked up at the cloudless sky.

"You once said to me you wished I'd know him, that I'd see what a wonderful man he is" Mary murmured before smiling. "Now I have gotten to know him and value him and I hope you know that." She glanced again around the deserted graveyard before looking again at Sybil's tomb. "Will it make you chuckle to know how much I'm disappointed he's not here today, to know that I'm actually missing him?"

Needing to rest before walking back to the abbey Mary sat down on the bench closest to Sybil's grave. It was peaceful sitting here with the sunlight filtering through the leaves of the overhanging tree branches, the only sound was the soft chirping of a bird on a tree further away, and the air was perfumed with the lilacs she had put at the graves. Her jacket was unbuttoned and she rubbed her hand across her belly. Looking at Sybil's tombstone she said "yes soon George will have a little brother or sister."

"I remember when you were born I didn't want another sister … didn't want another Edith. I don't think I even looked at you until you were a couple of months old for fear you'd look like Edith but you didn't look at all like her, you were this chubby little thing with dark curly hair and bright blue eyes and you smiled at me and I fell in love with you."

"You were the one that held us together although I'll always believe you liked me more than Edith. I think you'd be happy to know that Edith and I sorta have a truce now although I guess it helps that she's living hundreds of miles away. She seems quite happy and I'll admit Bertie is very nice actually he's much too nice for …" Mary chuckled. "I'm sorry I can't help it. I wish I was as nice of person as you were. I wish … I wish …" Mary crumbled into tears.

"I don't know what's come over me" Mary said as she wiped away the tears. "I still miss you so much Sybil."

* * *

The middle aged woman was surprised to see another woman sitting on one of the benches for it was rare outside of Sundays and holidays to see someone else in the graveyard. She had to pass by that bench and had intended only to nod in greeting but the woman's head was tilted back as if she were looking up at the sky but her eyes were closed.

"Maam" the woman said gently. "Maam" she repeated a bit more loudly. She stopped and tugged gently on Mary's arm. "Are you alright?"

Jolting awake Mary looked a bit confused, looking around as if trying to place where she was before her eyes focused on the woman standing in front of her. Dressed in a dowdy brown coat and a floppy plaid hat covering the top of her head the woman had a kind face.

"Sorry to disturb you but I just wanted to make sure" the woman began before realizing who it was. She stepped back and uttered "Oh! Lady Mary!"

At that Mary drew herself upright. Her puzzlement at who this woman was answered when she said "I'm Mrs. Greenly my lady. Came to see my boy Billy. Lost him in the war you know."

Mary gave a wan smile. "Guess you're here to see" the woman looked around and spotted Sybil's tomb "to see your sister. Fine lady your sister was. Remember her as a child she'd come to the farm with your father and she'd play with Billy and my girls just like she was one of them. Running around they would playing tag or chasing rabbits."

Mrs. Greenly smiled at the memory. "Wasn't surprised that she became a nurse during the war. That was so like her, sweet and kind she was. And she remembered me Billy when he was sent home from France all wounded. She'd sit with him and talk to him about those days playing even though he-". She stopped talking and took a deep breath. "Don't matter how long they been gone it still hurts. Don't seem right them two gone way too soon. Course they say the Lord takes the good ones first."

She looked at Mary and smiled. "Better get these flowers over to my Billy."

Mary watched her slowly walk away until she turned past the corner of the church. She stood up intending to start home but instead she went to Sybil's tomb reaching out and touching the sun warmed stone. She looked over at the Matthew's headstone and then back to Sybil's. Quietly she spoke "You and Matthew were the best of us."

* * *

His boyhood church had always seemed cold and imposing with its stone walls and narrow windows. Now as he looked around it seemed shabby much like the neighborhood surrounding it. The red carpet that ran down the aisle was faded and threadbare, the altar cloth was no longer stark white and a few window panes were cracked. But on that day seven years ago it had been beautiful.

"There were baskets of filled with flowers that your mummy and Aunt Maeve, Aunt Siobhan and Aunt Em had picked, flowers just like these." Tom standing in front of the altar explained to Sybbie. "They draped white and green ribbons on the baskets and the end of the pews and here" he said as he set the flower filled vase down on the riser behind them "was the biggest arrangement of flowers."

"I was standing here and the organ began playing and then I saw your mummy back there" he pointed to the end of the pews. "At first I thought I was seeing an angel with the way the light streaming through those windows shone on her."

"She had on this lovely white dress your Grandma had embellished with lace and she carried white and purple flowers."

"I love purple flowers Daddy."

"And so did your mummy." He reached behind him and plucked out a purple flower and tucked it into Sybbie's hair. "You like so much like her."

* * *

It wasn't the kind of place he'd normally patronize. Pubs were more to his liking but today with Sybbie a pub wouldn't do. Sybil had once told him that as a child her favorite meal had been afternoon tea. Not just because it was the only time she ate with her parents but because of the array of sandwiches and even better the sweet treats that were offered. The only birthday she had celebrated in Dublin Tom had taken her to afternoon tea. It wasn't any place as lavish as the Shelbourne for he could never afford such a place but the tea room he found was charming with dark wood tables, red velvet chairs, and a large picture window that looked out onto a garden. Sybil had been absolutely delighted with both the place and the food.

He didn't think Sybbie was ready for someplace quite as elegant as that tea room but this place looked a good substitute. The tile floor was shiny, the small tables were polished and the green cushioned chairs matched the drapes hang at the window.

"My don't you look pretty" the kindly-faced middle aged waitress looking at Sybbie smiled. "I bet it's some special occasion." Indeed the little girl wearing a white dress with hand stitched smocking trimmed with plum colored dots and a matching plum colored ribbon holding back her dark curls looked as if she were dressed for a party.

Sybbie vigorously nodded her head. "Today is mummy and daddy's anna … anna …" she scrunched her face trying to remember the word. "Annasary" she finally expelled much to her delight.

The waitress looked rather perplexed at Tom who answered her unasked question. "She means anniversary."

"We went to the church and Daddy told me all about that day" his daughter continued on. "It was beautiful and so was mummy."

"I see" the waitress laughingly replied.

"Sybbie you need to use your quiet voice here" Tom kindly reminded his exuberant daughter.

"And will your mummy be joining you?" The question asked in innocence.

Before Tom could reply Sybbie blurted "Mummy's in heaven."

"Oh!" The waitress' face reddened in embarrassment as she looked from Sybbie to Tom. "I'm-"

"It's alright" Tom interrupted her. Smiling he continued "it's been almost six years since my wife died."

"Six years" the waitress mumbled as she looked at Sybbie, trying to guess her age Tom thought.

Noting her discomfort Tom said "I like to do something special to honor that wonderful day we married. It's a day that should be remembered with happiness." He looked across the table to his daughter "and today I thought we'd honor it by having tea somewhere nice. It's my daughter's first afternoon tea."

"Aye" the woman smiled at Tom. "Then we'll make it extra special."

* * *

"Ma are you going to be here for a while?"

Orla Branson stared at her son and rolled her eyes. "Where would I be going at this time of night?"

Tom laughed. "It's just past nine o'clock."

She pulled the cotton belt of her robe a bit tighter. "And me in my robe. Where would I go dressed liked this?"

"I guess it was just a polite way of asking if you'll watch Sybbie while I go out."

"That sweet child is already asleep, her belly full of those fairy cakes which now she wants me to start making."

Tom laughed again. "She's already asked when we can go for afternoon tea again."

"Fine then I won't have to make those fairy cakes."

Tom put on his jacket. "I won't be long."

Orla reached out and put her hand on his arm. "Are you alright son?"

"I'm fine Ma."

She brushed his hair back as she had done when he was a little boy, her eyes searching his face as if trying to read his thoughts. "I know your time together was short but you were both so happy. Think of those good times remembering what was and not of what might have been."

"Sometimes Ma I'm afraid of not remembering. That she'll just …" he paused as he briefly closed his eyes. "Do you still think of Pa?"

"Of course I do lad. Not often but I do think of him." She smiled. "It usually comes at the oddest of times. Like the way one of you boys do something like he did or make a comment that he would have said."

"You never remarried."

"What man would have wanted a middle-aged woman with seven kids? Likely not one I would have wanted."

It was just a short stroll, only about five minutes, to the pier. When he'd come back to Dublin he realized he couldn't live in his old neighborhood, not with Sybbie and he didn't think it was fit for his mother anymore either. It had been a struggle to get his mother to agree to move. _Most my life has been in this house_ she'd said. _It's not the same neighborhood Ma as when I was a boy_ he'd said or was it that he was different now from that young lad?

He walked past the pier where a few people strolled and fishing boats bobbed up and down. Not much further along but away from the lights of town was a sandy stretch of beach. On one of his earlier walks here had had found an old log that provided a sturdy seat and he sat there now. During the day there would be others walking along here and sea birds squawking as they swooped down hoping to catch a fish but tonight it was only him and the only noise was the gentle lapping of the water as it came ashore. The moon was just barely more than a silver sliver but the sky was brightened by a thousand twinkling stars. He looked up searching for the brightest one.

"Remember that night I picked you up from the hospital but instead of going home you asked me to drive somewhere we could look at the stars. You pointed out Orion and told me his story. You talked of some of the other constellations and I marveled at your knowledge of the moon and the stars" he talked quietly into the night. "That was one of the things I loved about you how you could surprise me with this knowledge of things I knew nothing about. Because of you I see the stars and trees and flowers differently."

"I'll never regret all those days I spent just hoping to see you. Those days when just seeing your smile lit up my day. Those days hoping you'd find some need for the motor car."

"I loved that you always encouraged me. You didn't think my not wanting to always be a chauffeur was foolish, that politics was a fine ambition. I reached for the stars and found you."

He stopped talking and watched the water rush up the sand and then just as quickly return to the sea. "I think I have the life now we thought we'd have. I'm working for several different newspapers mostly covering local politics but some motor car stuff. It's beginning to feel like I'm the journalist you always thought I could be. Our daughter keeps me busy, hard to believe she'll start school this year. Part of the reason I moved out here was so that she'd have a really good local school. That's fulfilling one of your dreams love, she'll get the education you always wanted."

"Dublin's only a quick tram ride away but out here we have a nice garden and plenty of places for Sybbie to play outside. You'd love it here Sybil where we'd be able to stroll down to the sea any evening. We had some fine days at the seaside didn't we?"

"I feel like I'm living again, not just going through the motions." He looked back up at the sky and his sight settled once again on the brightest star. "Love know that Sybbie and I are doing fine now. I'll do my best to make you part of her life. Whatever the future brings know that there will always be a place for you in my heart. I'll love you always."


End file.
